No Other Place
by Pale Treasures
Summary: Oblonsky pays the Levin family a visit, which prompts him and Levin to discuss fatherhood, life, time and past decisions. One shot.


**No Other Place**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing about Anna Karenina, all of it belongs to Leo Tolstoy.

**Rating: **K+

**Summary: **Oblonsky pays the Levin family a visit, which prompts him and Levin to discuss fatherhood, life, time and past decisions.

**Author's note: **Some things in this may be horribly wrong – I did no research, I just wrote. Bear with me.

* * *

The date had been set for almost a month, now, and he had been thinking about it with both pleasure and trepidation. Right now, he was nervous, incongruously so, since Stiva was a longtime friend. Perhaps, if he was truly honest with himself, he feared his influence, especially now, that he was settled, a father of three, content with his life and unused to his company. After all, it had been months since Stiva had last visited. For all the differences between them and their polar opposite personalities, Stiva had always accepted and supported him, but Levin feared he would not understand him now. Even worse than that, he feared Stiva might try to turn him from the life he had fought for, grown accustomed to and loved. He wanted nothing more than a peaceful visit and for a good time with the friend he had missed. Perhaps he was being ungrateful and overly fearful. Surely all would turn out well.

The day of Stiva's arrival, he and Kitty stood waiting for him before their estate. It was a warm, sunny spring day, perfect to take a walk around the land. They tried to get Mitya and Kolya to quietly stand beside them also, but that was too much to ask of two boisterous five and seven year olds. Kitty held in her arms the newest addition to the family, two-year-old Yelena, who took in the bright world around her with big, curious blue eyes. Strands of the lightest blonde hair escaped from underneath her small lace cap. Levin stole a glance at the little girl and felt his heart swell with tenderness. It had not been easy to wrap his head around being a father to a girl; his fears at the time of Kolya's birth had not been unwarranted. He had been anguished and neurotic for long after she was born, which eventually began to put a strain on Kitty's patience and goodwill. Their marriage had almost suffered again. His distress had eased with time, but to this day there were many things he was uneasy about. For one, he simply could not treat her the same way he treated his sons. When he tried to, the effort was artificial and awkward. He worried twice as much about her as he did them and he was unable to hold her for a very long time, fearing that she would be besieged by some unknown calamity reserved especially for her, merely because she was a girl. Kitty still scolded him over it; she claimed that one day, Alyona would doubt his love and herself if she had a father who constantly watched himself around her, treated her like glass and went as far as avoiding to be left alone with her. Many fathers might do that to their children, to be sure, but she would not have _him_ be one of them. 'Children are hardy, Kostya, and a girl is no different,' she repeatedly told him. Still, he could not abandon his ways. Perhaps one day he would get better at it and not feel so threatened by his own daughter, regardless of how much he loved her. And he _did_ love her; like with his two previous children, he had only a moment to doubt it before he realised how true it was.

"There he comes," Kitty pointed out, motioning with her chin towards a coach in the distance, raising clouds of dust as it advanced. An arm pushed out of the window and waved vigorously; he raised his arm to wave back, while shading his eyes from the burning sun. As the coach drew closer, Kolya jumped up and down, getting his brother to do the same:

"Uncle Stiva is here!"

Levin smiled slightly, both amused and somewhat embarrassed by such exuberance, hoping they would be able to restrain themselves once Stiva was with them.

"You will frighten your uncle," he said lightly, pushing Kolya back from the path of the coach and keeping him steady by his side. "We can welcome him without making quite so much noise."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kitty quietly bite back a smile at his feeble attempt at discipline. The truth was, he thought he would be better at handling boys, but he himself had not been nearly as rambunctious as a young boy, and his sons' energy often unsettled him. He could not keep up with them, and that regularly resulted in his rebukes being utterly ignored. But they minded Kitty, there was no denying that. He was sometimes loath to admit it, but he had been entirely mistaken. Kitty was a natural parent, as tender and loving as she was stern and inflexible. It pained him to go to bed after scolding one of the boys or, in the most extreme of circumstances, sending them to bed without supper; Kitty lost no sleep over it. The next day, the children were invariably as meek as lambs. And, when they _were_ quiet, they were intelligent and sagacious, excelling in their studies, interested in their surroundings and almost looking and sounding older than their years. He knew he had Kitty to thank for the rearing of their children. Fatherhood truly moved him, but he wasn't the best at handling its practical demands. If he had married someone similar to him, the house would be unmanageable. But with Kitty, everything ran smoothly.

He squeezed her arm affectionately, trying to convey his appreciation in silence. He knew she would pick up on something, if she hadn't guessed exactly what was on his mind altogether. She looked at him sideways and smiled. He smiled back at her, and the matter was settled.

The coach stopped before them and out came a red-faced, slightly dusty Stiva, whilst the coachman produced Stiva's luggage from the coach. However, as soon as he stepped out, he flashed them all a brilliant smile.

"I'm here, at last! I hope you weren't left waiting for long," Stiva seemed to have put on a little weight, and his coat bunched tightly around his back and stomach. He would have expected nothing else, coming from him.

Levin smiled. "You hardly kept us waiting. It's good to see you again. You look... healthy."

"You too, my friend," Stiva replied, pulling him into a bone-breaking embrace. When he was done with him, he cheerfully kissed Kitty on both cheeks. "And how are you, dearest sister? Country life suits you, I see. And so does motherhood. I will see you with as many little ducklings flapping around your skirts as your sister. I am sure you will thrive in it."

"Perhaps not quite so many, but one can never tell," Kitty replied meekly. She sobered and looked Stiva in the eyes. "How is Dolly?"

"Doing splendidly. She sends her love and regards to all. And how are you?" he knelt before the two boys and asked the question with awed deliberation, as though he was standing before two titans. Mitya and Kolya pounced on him at the same time. "How big you've grown! You were little babies the last time I saw you!" he grunted as he picked them both up.

"We weren't babies," Mitya protested.

"It certainly feels that way to me, but I'm just an old man," Stiva replied gleefully.

"Did you bring us anything?" Kolya asked eagerly.

"Kolya, I'm sure that is no way to mind your manners and welcome your uncle," Kitty pointed out in a stern voice. The boy fell silent, but still faced Stiva with a hopeful expression.

"Perhaps," Stiva winked at him. He put both boys down. "Now, off you go. Go find somebody else to torment. You're too heavy for me."

Mitya and Kolya ran off, yelling in excitement and making a great deal of noise.

"And _you_ have grown very big as well!" Stiva cooed to baby Alyona, gently pinching her cheek. He looked sideways at Levin. "This one will be a beauty, Kostya. You should start giving the matter some thought. But you already have, or I don't know you at all."

Bringing up a sensitive subject which he had _indeed_ mulled over made Levin's expression cloud. He tried to smile, but only succeeded in replying, in a sullen tone, "Indeed, I have. But she is still too small. A great many years will pass before there is any talk of marriage, or any need for it."

Stiva exchanged a knowing, amused smile with Kitty. "Let's wait and see how many do pass, before I hear you broaching the subject again."

"Let us help you with your luggage," Kitty suggested brightly, no doubt wanting to prevent a plummeting of the joyful mood. "Kostya, why don't you carry the bags on your left? I'm sure all Stiva needs after such a long and troublesome journey is food and rest."

"I would welcome it very much, indeed," Stiva agreed with a coy smile.

Wordlessly, he grabbed as many suitcases as he could, refusing Stiva's pleas to help and letting him coo and make a fuss of Alyona, who was taken with the visitor and giggled at him as he pretended to snatch her nose and tickled her neck. He felt a little pinch of jealousy, but quickly endeavoured to make it go away. Stiva had always been a charmer; it was unreasonable not to expect people to respond well to him, including his own children, including his own baby daughter. Stiva's visit was long overdue; he must not ruin it with his qualms.

As he crossed the threshold of the house, Levin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. All would go well. It had to.

* * *

"Things seem to be truly going well around here," Stiva commented as they slowly walked about the fields, ready for harvest. The gold-tinted green grass bobbed gently in the soft breeze, poppies and daisies added a splash of colour to the fields and gathered here and there, like patchwork on an old quilt. He was always very proud of his work and his home when spring came; it seemed like everything came together, like all his efforts had borne fruit. He was pleased that Stiva had noticed it too. It wasn't simply vanity, Levin told himself, but a way to make him see how this was truly the right life, and how it reflected well not just on him, but on his farmers, his servants, Kitty, and everyone around him.

"It has been a good year," Levin agreed. "I like to think that everyone is happy, and as such, they produce good work."

"Spoken like someone who truly understands his business," Stiva pointed out with a smile. He peered closely at him. "And are you truly happy here? Working with your men, overseeing everything, married, with a pack of children? Isn't that too much for your nerves? Do you never wish you could get away?" The words were put bluntly, even offensively, but Levin knew Stiva well enough to guess at the kindness and concern behind them. After all, Stiva knew him well too. But he was a different man, and doubts about what course of life to take and how to maintain it no longer plagued him.

"I am happy," he nodded, speaking slowly, in an attempt to clearly express all he wanted to say. "This is truly the life for me. If I had stayed a bachelor, or married someone else, I would have been miserable, and if I had moved to Moscow or St. Petersburg, I would have lost myself. This was the only path for me. I am only grateful that I found that out in time and that the many mistakes I made did not turn me from it – or those I love from me."

"You speak of Kitty."

He nodded. "I mean her, but I am also thinking of the children. I hope I shall always be able to do right by them. And that, through my efforts, they grow up to be people I will be proud of." He paused. "That often worries me. There is only so much you can control and change in your children – how do you know they will be the best they can be? How can you be certain that they will remember the lessons you have taught them? How can you be sure that other people will treat them as they deserve? I fear there are many things beyond me – beyond Kitty, even – and that there is nothing I shall ever be able to do about that."

"Children are never our own," Stiva remarked sagely. He was surprised to hear such a remark from someone who had shown little involvement in his own children's lives. Perhaps Stiva was not as negligent as he appeared. "The best one can hope for is that they reflect their upbringing in the best possible way, but other than that, you have to let them go. They will feel that way about their own children. It's the law of life."

"But how can you _prevent_ that?" Levin pressed, a little desperately. "Is there really nothing you can do? My children often frighten and confuse me, but I know I would die for them. I don't want to watch from afar as they make their own way in life. I don't want them to – to stray. I cannot conceive that one day, they will leave us. Would you not be a better father if you made them want to stay with you? And how _can_ you be a better father, if you're not certain how they'll turn out? What can you ever expect, if nothing's set in stone?" He shook his head, trying in vain to make sense of it all. "Besides, how _can_ one wish them to stay, when they're often so difficult, you would beg for a minute of rest?"

"Questions one shall ask through eternity, my friend," Stiva replied, patting him on the back. "And if someone ever reaches an agreeable answer, I shall congratulate them. But you shouldn't worry too much. It will change nothing, and your children are still young. Wait until those boys of yours start giving you proper trouble, and your daughter reaches marriageable age and falls in love with the first rogue who asks her to dance, and then, you will wish they were children again, or away from your sight altogether." Stiva quickly recoiled when he saw his look of horror. "Well, don't take my word for it," he stammered clumsily. "No one shall ever call me a _connoisseur_ on children. In any case, you and Kitty will handle everything superbly, I'm sure."

Levin was not immediately able to reply, trying to do away with the chilly, sinking feeling of dread and helplessness that Stiva's well-meaning words had caused to wash over him. "I hope it will not get to that," he murmured in a feeble voice.

"Surely not. I got carried away," Stiva reassured him kindly.

"And how about you," Levin asked, valiantly attempting to change the subject and turn the conversation on Stiva, who had yet to speak of himself, "how have you been doing? Does _your_ life still suit you?"

"Of course. I have everything I could wish for."

"I wonder at your resilience. I would think that such a busy life, with so many demands, so many acquaintances, so many distractions, and with a big family on top of it, would make you sometimes long for something... simpler. Quieter."

Stiva gave him a wary, sideways look. "You will not try to turn me into a peasant, will you? Because, charming as country life may be, it is not for me."

Levin smiled slightly. "I might, but I would be foolish if I did not know the effort to be useless."

"You would be wise to remember it. We have had this conversation the last time I was here, Kostya."

Levin's smile was bashful, this time. "You're my closest friend, and I worry about your health and spirits."

"Well, I thank you for your concern. But they couldn't be better."

Levin knew Stiva far too well to believe there was any offence beneath his apparent tone of light annoyance. He fell silent, trying to will his smile not to widen. Even though Stiva was a bit older and knew more about life than perhaps he ever would, he did worry, and felt very protective of him. It was good that he could visit them, at least, break away from the nefarious fumes and temptations of the city and take in the fresh air and the tranquillity of country life. Perhaps one day he would convince him.

"Why don't you bring Dolly with you next time, then?" Levin asked casually. "And the children. It will do them good."

"Hmm. Yes, yes, I will think about it."

Levin gazed at him earnestly. "Now for the truth, Stiva. _Are_ you happy?"

Stiva turned to him in surprise. "Of course I am. Why such concern, Kostya? I know you are a philosopher, I _know_ you still wish you could save me from my profligate life after all these years, but you must believe I am perfectly content where I am. Just as you fit in here, right where you are. Isn't it time, old boy, that you accept that the two of us are hopelessly different and will always be?"

Levin smiled a little. "One can only hope."

"I know my life isn't something you approve of or would wish for yourself. But what is done is done, and in any case I wouldn't change it. I blame my nature for giving pain to those who did not deserve it. I would take it back if I could. But I cannot, and I am not the sort to wallow in regret. It will poison you faster than anything! And what will you have left, then?"

Levin glanced sideways at Stiva with fresh wonder and approval. "You have grown wiser, Stiva. I can barely recognise in you the man you once here."

Stiva sighed. "Age catches up with you, and before you know it you are old, stiff and in pain, forced to think about your life and the decisions you chose to make."

"It must indeed be painful, for someone with your liveliness."

"Are you mocking me, Kostya?"

"Not at all." However, he wasn't sure that he wasn't. Just a little. Stiva had always said he could use a sense of humour, after all.

"It is a great blessing to be young, one we do not appreciate when we have it," Stiva lamented. "How I wish I could go back to those days."

"And make the same mistakes you now say you regret?"

Stiva sighed loudly. "I don't know... introspection is such hard work. That is why I leave it to the likes of you, and simply follow my instincts, whatever they may be. It is the only thing I'm good at."

"And look where that has got you. You do well to look back on your past and repent. You may yet do your wife and children proud."

Stiva sighed again and did not reply.

"I have not yet felt the passing of time," Levin said slowly, pondering on the subject. "I suppose I have been too busy for it. Perhaps it is as well. I could not do what I do and be a proper husband and father if I allowed myself to be consumed by it. I pray I will stay that away for a very long time, still."

"You are a blessed man, Kostya. Wanting nothing more than you have, needing nothing else. You have found your place in life. It is more than many men can say for themselves, I assure you."

"I know," and he felt, slowly unfurling within him, little tendrils of pride. He _had_ found his place. He knew that; in spite of all his anxiety and doubts, and the vexing little problems that sometimes occurred, he would not trade what he had for the world. It was not always easy, but nothing else would make him happy.

"Well, each to his own lot," Stiva declared in a decisive tone, settling the matter. It was unlike him to dwell on misfortune or, indeed, past regrets. It was very likely the reason why he had never allowed himself to be beaten by life or by his own shortcomings. Levin grudgingly admired that, in part for the sake of Stiva's happiness, in part because he knew he would never be like that.

But it mattered not. The realisation that he wanted nothing else for himself than what he already had made him happy. He could feel his spirits getting as light as the pure white clouds that raced themselves breezily on the spring sky. He remembered Stiva's words about the future trouble his children would give him, and felt he could have laughed. He decided to take advantage of his good humour and to test Stiva's buoyancy a little.

"Speaking of dancing with rogues..." Levin began, rather innocently. "Isn't it almost time for Tanya's debutante ball?"

Stiva groaned.


End file.
